Grey Ships, Part I: Paths to Tread
by Isabella Raven
Summary: Draco insists on sparring, Haldir tries not to blow a gasket, and Rumil doesn't exactly help matters when he offers to spar with Draco.
1. Prologue: Lullabies and Nightmares

Grey Ships, Part I – Paths to Tread

Disclaimer: This story is based off of characters and situations and places created by JK Rowling and JRR Tolkien. I in no way own any of the characters recognizable as coming from their worlds. And if they really wanted Ainion, Aeriel, Caladwen or Megilwen, they could have them. Or rather, Tolkien and his heirs could take them. But that's about it. 

Author's Note 1: Yes, I know there is no Lord of the Rings material in the prologue. That begins with chapter one, and will continue throughout the story, so don't worry, there will be plenty of elves later... 

_Prologue – Lullabies and Nightmares_

He could hear her singing a lullaby, even though he was sixteen, and considered himself long past the age of being sung to sleep. Not that his mother had ever sung him to sleep in his life. Draco yawned, curling in a ball under the covers of the unfamiliar bed, turning away from where his aunt sang. He could feel the damp and drying trails of tears on his face. Tears he had fought so hard not to shed in the face of the sorrow and sympathy of an aunt he'd never met, and rejected sight unseen because of her husband.

Fingers came to rest on his head, stroking his hair, an unfamiliar gesture he shied away from. Andromeda's voice faltered a moment, but she didn't stop singing, and after a long moment, he fell into a restless, uneasy sleep, plagued by nightmares. Green light, his parents lifeless bodies, the eerie laugh of his aunt Bellatrix. The sneering faces of Lestrange and Nott as they told his father it was the price for incompetence. Running for his life across the dangerous, potential lethal Malfoy lands, hearing the angry curses of the Death Eaters behind him.

He woke with a start, sweating, the sheets tangled around his feet, pinning them to the bed as his head rested on the wooden floor. The house around him wasn't the almost tomb-like silence of the Manor, and he frowned for a moment, trying to remember where he was. A rustle from the door alerted him to the presence of someone else, and he started to struggle with the bed sheets again.

"Draco?" His aunt's soft voice called, concerned. There was the rustle of her nightgown again, and a moment later, she came into sight around the end of the bed. "Draco, are you alright?" she asked as she knelt beside him, helping him to untangle himself from the sheets.

"I'm fine," he snapped in reply, his jaw clenching. "Get away from me!" He shoved her away, ignoring the hurt expression on her face. Standing, he balanced himself against the bed-post a moment before stalking towards the door, pausing only long enough to grab his wand and cloak.

"Draco!" Andromeda followed him, and stepping between him and the door. "You know you can't leave. It's not safe outside of this house, or Hogwarts, not right now."

"I don't care!" Draco glared at her, his eyes narrowed. "I am not staying here with you and that pathetic _Mudblood_ husband of yours! Get out of my way!" He leveled his wand at her, his jaw clenched tightly enough to hurt. He wanted away from her and her smothering sympathy. He didn't need her, didn't need Dumbledore's solicitude. He was a Malfoy, without need for anyone else but himself!

"I can't let you go out there, Draco." Andromeda gave him a pleading look, reaching out one hand. It was a mistake, and he snarled out a curse. She had her wand in her other hand, and he heard her call out a spell, but didn't notice what as the two spells impacted. They reacted violently, the explosion of magic knocking him backwards. His head hit something hard, and he fell into blackness.


	2. 1: Arrival in Imladris

_Chapter 1 – Arrival At Imladris_

Andromeda pulled herself out of the river, grimly clutching her wand in one hand. She used the other to scrape her hair out of her face as she looked around, trying to recognize where she was. She'd never seen a forest like this, not with such a strong feeling of magic. She muttered a drying charm on her nightgown and quickly braided her hair before drying it as well.

She didn't see Draco in the river, or washed up on the bank, and she hoped her nephew was alright, wherever he was. She had a nasty suspicion they weren't in England, at the very least. Possibly not in Europe at all, though the forest would be appropriate for the continent.

And how she arrived here, or they arrived here, was a mystery to her. The explosion caused by the two spells colliding should not have achieved this effect. Unless she had struck her head, and was dreaming. Rather lucidly, and not entirely certain if this would be a pleasant dream or no.

Andromeda shook her head, and started to make her way through the woods, following the feeling of magic imbued in the woods. It tried to send off down other paths, but there was always a strong thread of magic that led her from the river towards someplace hidden by the forest. She only hoped it wasn't someplace dangerous, and that if Draco was there, and it was dangerous, he hadn't already found it.

She gasped as she emerged in front of a large stone building. Or perhaps complex of buildings, all interconnected, would be the more appropriate phrasing. The construction was like nothing she'd seen before, except in the books of one of the more famous wizarding authors. She reached out a hand to touch the stone, hardly daring to believe she might have landed in Tolkien's world.

The stone was cool under her hand, and she drew it back as if burnt. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "This can't be real. It was all just a story, and this is a dream. A dream induced by a blow to the head, while I'm on my way to St. Mungo's," she whispered to herself. It had to be. She could not have been thrown into another world. Could she?

"Who are you?" A cold voice made her open her eyes and look up at the male in front of her. Peeking through his hair were a pair of pointed ears, and Andromeda felt the blood drain from her face as the world went grey. She swayed on her feet, blinking, fighting to stay conscious. It would be very bad manners to faint while someone was asking you a question.

She saw the elf's brow furrow, and she wet her lips, opening her mouth to reply. Two more elves peered around the corner, and she blinked again once before fainting.

* * *

Ainion caught the strange woman before she hit the ground, looking over his shoulder to see the sheepish faces of Elladan and Elrohir. "Since you two are the cause of this problem, one of you can inform Lord Elrond of her existence while the other takes her to the healer."

He glared at them until they scooped up the woman's body and headed, both of them, towards the healing wing. Ainion knew they were not truly to blame for the woman passing out, as they were leaving again. More than likely they had only been curious as to who had arrived unexpected, and unknown. Still, someone had to deal with her while the message was taken to Lord Elrond about the strange arrival.

Ainion signaled to his partner on watch that he would return as soon as it was possible. He bounded up the stairs of the house, long strides taking him to the study where Elrond was talking with Gandalf about something or another.

"Lord Elrond."

Elrond looked up, arching an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Ainion bowed slightly. "A strange woman came to the gate, and…"

Elrond stood, interrupting him with an upraised hand, and shot a swift glance at Gandalf, an unspoken message passing between them that Ainion could not read. "Where is she now?"

"The healing wing, Lord Elrond," Ainion replied, startled that the elven lord had interrupted his report. Though it was likely he'd already been aware of her arrival, it was unusual for the master of Imladris to have interrupted.

Elrond swept by him, Gandalf on his heels, and Ainion followed them towards the healing wing, curious about what had caused their abrupt interruption of his report. He promised himself he would return to the gate once he had stopped at the healer's wing.

"She is likely the source of the strange magic you sensed." Gandalf was pacing beside the Peredhil, his pipe in one hand.

"I am aware of that, Mithrandir." Elrond's voice sounded concerned. "As the source of that magic has moved closer to Imladris despite the efforts to confuse and divert it."

They stepped into the healing wing, the healer looking up at them as they entered. On the cot was a brown-haired woman, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers. The twins were standing off to one side, their heads bent towards each other, their voices mere murmurs to Ainion's ears at the moment.

* * *

Andromeda massaged her temples as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea that she was in Middle Earth, and she had seen an elf – more than one! – less than a minute before. She looked up again, and spotted another elf in the doorway. He bore a circlet on his brow, and his grey eyes watched her without any expression showing that she could detect.

After a long moment where their eyes locked, the elf moved towards her, settling with an easy grace into the chair the healer abandoned at his approach. Andromeda felt herself pulling into the straight-backed pose her mother had taught her and her sisters, her hands in her lap, for when they were entertaining important guests.

"How are you feeling?" The elf held her gaze, and Andromeda repressed a shiver. It was as if he was looking into her soul.

"Rather disconcerted, sir." She paused. "If I may ask, with whom am I speaking?" She had fallen back into the speech patterns of her youth, infinitely polite, and infinitely proper.

A smile twitched at the edges of the elf's mouth, and she heard a snort from behind him, where a grey-haired man in grey robes that looked rather questionable to her eyes stood.

"I am Lord Elrond."

She nodded her head graciously. "Andromeda Tonks," she replied.

"Welcome to Imladris, Andromeda." He nodded back to her, and then stood, offering her a hand to stand, as formally polite as she was being. Andromeda smiled slightly, and took the offered hand, standing carefully. She didn't feel dizzy, and straightened, quickly checking for her wand.

A frown came to her face when she couldn't discover it on her person, or on the cot she had awoken on. "Where is my wand?"

"Wand?" Elrond looked puzzled.

Andromeda nodded. "Ash, seven inches long." She bit back the rest of the description, as it would be useless information for them.

There were blank looks around the room, before the elf who stood in the doorway spoke. "Something dropped as Elladan picked her up to bring her here." The elf was watching her with a puzzled expression. "I was unaware a stick that small had any importance."

"That stick, sir, is my wand, and I need that." Andromeda wanted to grind her teeth in frustration. Even living in the Muggle world, she hadn't neglected to keep her wand where she could locate it at all times.

"Ainion." Elrond spoke quietly, but Andromeda could hear the note of command in it. "Find the wand, and bring it to the guest quarters."

The grey-haired man waved a hand. "I will go with him, Elrond, and I will find you once the item has been fetched."

The elf in the doorway looked like he was caught between relief and annoyance at the grey-haired man, and he spun on his heel, almost marching away from the healing wing, the man following.

* * *

Elrond watched the woman out of the corner of his eye as he escorted her towards the guest quarters, several questions turning over in his mind. Where had she come from? How did the magic she work operate? And why was she alone, in clothing that appeared to be ill-suited for the outdoors?

"Lord Elrond." Her voice was quiet, her tone even and politely neutral, like a born aristocrat playing the delicate game of diplomacy. "If I might ask, has anyone else appeared unexpectedly on your doorstep?" She looked up at him, her brow furrowed slightly, and concern for someone in her eyes.

He shook his head. "No. There has been no one else, Andromeda, other than yourself."

She frowned slightly, turning to look forward again. "Blast," she muttered, so softly he suspected she thought it was inaudible. Certainly it would have been, to human ears.

"Is there something wrong?"

She was silent a moment, and he could see her worrying at her lower lip before she spoke. "My nephew was with me, and I had hoped he might have landed near where I did."

"I am sorry."

Andromeda smiled slightly. "I hope he is alright, wherever he might be at the moment." She looked up at him again. "If I might ask, would it be possible to locate me something better than my current gown to dress in? I'm afraid this one is rather in a sorry state, after being through the river, and through the forest."

Elrond paused outside the first of the guest rooms. "I shall speak with my household, and see what we might find for you." He looked up as Arwen came around the corner, with an armful of gowns. She smiled when she saw him, and then turned her attention to Andromeda.

"Aeriel asked me to bring some gowns down to the infirmary for one of her patients, and when I arrived, she said ada had taken you to the guest rooms." She nudged the door open with her foot, nodding for Andromeda to go in first, and closed the door behind them.

Elrond shook his head, and turned to leave, spotting Gandalf coming down the hall, studying a piece of wood he held in his hands. "Her wand was found?"

Gandalf nodded absently, turning the short piece of smoothly polished wood in his hands. The wizard's pipe had gone out, and he hadn't even noticed, he was so engrossed in examining the wand. "It's a focus, like a wizard's staff, only smaller." He frowned, tapping it gently, and muttering something to himself.

* * *

Andromeda looked over the gowns as the elven woman spread them out on the bed, mentally sorting them into ones she thought would look decent or nice on her, and ones that would look absolutely atrocious. There were very few of the latter, fortunately.

"What is your name?" The elven woman tilted her head as she looked over at Andromeda, the gowns all set out.

"Andromeda Tonks," she replied, reaching for a russet gown with a black chemise, and laced up the back. A glance around the room spotted a screen in the corner, and she stepped behind it to change from the night gown into the new clothing. "And you are?"

"Arwen Undomiel."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Arwen." Andromeda shook the skirt of the chemise out before pulling the gown on over it, and poking her head from behind the screen. "Might I ask you to tighten the laces? I can't reach them very well."

Arwen smiled, and nodded, coming over to lace the gown shut. "This one looks very well on you. Much better than it did on Aeriel."

"Thank you." Andromeda glanced down, and tugged at the sleeves of the chemise, reaching under the skirt to finish evening out the neckline. There was a mirror to one side, and she looked into it critically, studying her appearance. "I hope they've located my wand. My hair is mess."

Arwen was heading for the door, pushing it open, and Andromeda spotted the silver-haired man standing outside, with her wand in hand. She smiled, and spun, holding out her hand, and whispering, "Accio!"

The piece of wood flew to her hand, and she curled her fingers around it as the man looked up in surprise. Andromeda spoke a couple of quick hair-care charms, and her hair braided itself, twisting up into a coil on the top of her head. It would stay there until she used the counter-charm in the evening.

"Fascinating." The man was watching her, and she noticed Arwen and Elrond doing the same, their expressions unreadable. She bit her lower lip, wondering if she had perhaps broken some sort of taboo, or offended her hosts.

* * *

Elrond noticed Andromeda biting at her lip, and her sudden unease, and he consciously made his body language more welcoming, and comforting, watching as she relaxed slightly. "You work magic, Andromeda?" It was a question to which he already knew the answer, but perhaps asking it might make the woman relax. Someone more at ease, after all, was less likely to cause trouble unless they intended to cause it.

She nodded. "Yes." Her brow furrowed a moment, and her gaze turned inward, as if she was examining a thought or a memory. A moment later, she once more had the carefully schooled expression of a polished diplomat or politician in an unfamiliar situation. "I hope I did not offend by using my magic here."

He shook his head. "No. It is simply unfamiliar." Elrond paused, a thought occurring to him. "I would be honored if you would join me, and a few other guests for dinner this evening." He needed to know where she came from, and if he had to anticipate more like her arriving uninvited on his doorstep. Preferably with more than one or two sets of eyes to make observations, and in a situation where all might be comfortable.

Andromeda smiled. "I would be delighted to accept your invitation, Lord Elrond."

* * *

Author's note: Please, REVIEW after you've read. Points at the purplish button in the lower left corner. Click on that, and leave me a review. Tell me what you think. Ask questions. Oh, and ponder the review question (thank you to someone else on for the idea of asking the reader a question in the author's end note).   
Review Question: Do you think Andromeda will go looking for Draco, or will she ask Elrond to assist her in finding him? 


	3. 2: A Wizard in Lothlorien

_Chapter 2 – A Wizard in Lothlorien_

Haldir carefully kept his expression blank as he helped to haul the unconscious body out of the river. It was a human, in unfamiliar dress, and he didn't like that it had floated so close to Caras Galadhon before it had been spotted. He heard the healer come pelting up the path, Caladwen skidding to a stop almost on his heels.

"Sweet Elbereth!" She stared at the body for a long moment before frowning deeply, kneeling next to it, and checking to see if it was still alive. "He's alive," she said aloud, gesturing for Haldir to come closer. "Carry him to my talon, Haldir. I need the herbs and tools there to heal him."

The Marchwarden suppressed the urge to growl, and heaved the body over one shoulder, ignoring Caladwen's glare. It was lighter than he expected, and easy to carry up to the healer's talon.

"Put him on the cot there, Haldir, before you run off to tell Galadriel about him washing up from the river." Caladwen vanished into her still room, her voice muffled by the door. "And if you see Megilwen along the way, send her here. My apprentice may well make herself useful."

She came out with a bowl of mixed dried herbs as he walked up the stairs to the next level, letting out an exasperated sound at how he had simply dumped the body on the cot. Haldir ignored her, making his way through the elven city towards Galadriel and Celeborn's talon.

_What news do you bring to us, Haldir?_ Galadriel's voice echoed in his skull as he approached the talon.

_A human was floating on the river. Caladwen is attending to it in her talon, as it was still alive when we pulled it from the river._

_Still alive?_ A moment later, Galadriel descended the stairs to where he waited. "Caladwen was certain she could heal the human?"

Haldir nodded, escorting Galadriel as they walked towards the healer's talon. "She was certain it would be fine."

"Then I would like to meet this strange human." Galadriel looked intrigued, and Haldir fought the rising feeling of disgust for the human in Caladwen's care.

"Not all humans are so worthless as you often assume they are, Haldir." He glanced at her, meeting solemn blue eyes. "Some are your equal, and worthy of the same respect you give to me."

Haldir flushed and nodded stiffly, carefully reining in his thoughts and emotions as he escorted Galadriel to the healer's talon.

* * *

Caladwen looked up from cleaning the clotted blood from the back of the young man's skull to see her apprentice in the entry of the talon. "Ah, Megilwen. Take the herbs in the mortar on the table and crush them. They'll need to be used on the wound once it's clean."

"Yes, Caladwen." The younger elf gave the patient a curious look as she pulled the ceramic mortar and pestle to her, carefully beginning to crush the dried herbs it contained. "Is he a human?"

Caladwen chuckled softly. "Yes, Megilwen. And at the moment, he is our patient. What he is does not matter so much as what are his injuries."

"But you've told me, many times, that the speaking races each react differently to the herbs we use to heal."

"Individually and as a race, yes. But the principles of treating injuries are the same regardless. And those are?" She raised an eyebrow, testing her apprentice's memory.

"Assess the injuries, clean open wounds and flush deeper ones, identify the appropriate treatment, and apply the treatment. Observe the patient for adverse reactions, for infection, or for fever." Megilwen looked down into the bowl of the mortar to judge the consistency of the herbs she was working with. "Do you want these as a powder, or do I add water to make a paste?"

"Powder for a wound, Megilwen." Caladwen trimmed the hair around the wound so it wouldn't get into it, and cause an infection. "Come over here and help me strip him down, so we can ensure there are no other injuries other than the head wound."

Megilwen blushed, but came over, taking the sodden cloak first, and hanging it over a rack in the sun that streamed in from the balcony's doorway to dry. The healer watched her expression, and shook her head, a frown on her face.

"You can't let yourself be shy around the nude body, Megilwen. A healer can't afford to be squeamish about anything." Caladwen pulled the shirt off the young man, directing Megilwen to pull the thin pants from his legs. "You are going to be seeing a wide variety of people, elf, human, and dwarf, in their small clothes or less as a healer. And you can't be uncomfortable around them, or they are going to notice, and you won't be able to do your job effectively."

Megilwen flushed a deeper red, and hung the other clothing off the rack as well, turning back in time to catch the trousers Caladwen tossed towards her. The healer deftly toweled the young man dry, and moved him to the dry cot.

"Sprinkle that herbal powder heavily over the wound on the back of his skull, then wrap the bandages." Caladwen instructed, keeping a careful eye on her apprentice as Megilwen did as she was told.

_Caladwen._ Galadriel announced her presence to the healer as she climbed the stairs to the talon. _How is your patient?_

Caladwen waited until the lady was in the talon before replying. "Other than the head wound, he appears to be fine. I have a tea steeping that should help to wake him up, once Megilwen is finished with wrapping the wound."

Galadriel nodded, watching the young elf. "She is doing well?"

"Better than I anticipated." Caladwen shrugged. "She still has far to go." She moved towards the table, checking the contents of a mug, and nodding to herself. She strained the tea into another mug, and handed it to Megilwen when she came over. "Make sure all of it goes down, then clean up the tools before you leave."

Caladwen moved back over to where Galadriel stood, and glanced at Haldir, who was watching the human with a slight curl to his upper lip. _You wish to do something, lady. That involves my patient._

It was still difficult for the healer to read Galadriel's moods and intentions, but her irritation at the Marchwarden was more visible than she expected to see.

Galadriel smiled slightly. _Yes. He still has things he must learn, and I cannot teach him directly._

The healer nodded. "The patient will need constant observation for a few days, especially in the first full day, to make sure that he doesn't suffer any ill effects from the concussion he is likely to have. And I have my usual rounds, and Megilwen's lessons to attend to, Lady Galadriel. I cannot watch him myself."

"Of course," Galadriel murmured, as Haldir stiffened beside her. "Haldir, you do not have the border watch for another month." She turned her head to look at the Marchwarden's carefully blank expression. "You can keep an eye on Caladwen's young patient until then."

* * *

Haldir nodded, though he wanted to argue for Galadriel to appoint someone else to the task. Anyone else. "Yes, Lady Galadriel."

"And I expect you to find him someplace to reside while he is in Caras Galadhon." She smiled at him, her eyes warm with amusement at his expense. "Someplace where you can keep an eye on him, so he will not get into trouble."

He nodded again, gritting his teeth. Caladwen, on the far side of Galadriel, smirked, as amused as the Lady by his discomfort.

"Then you'd best find someplace soon, Haldir. He should be waking up in an hour or so, and then I will need him moved from my talon so that I have room for patients that need a healer's direct care should they be brought to me."

Haldir suppressed the urge to sigh, and merely inclined his head. "I will do as you request, Healer Caladwen."

He knew that an hour was not enough time to make sure that a guest talon was ready. Which meant he would have to, at least temporarily, house the human in his talon. Not something he looked forward to. As he was certain Caladwen and Galadriel were both aware.

"I can send Megilwen to fetch you when he wakes up, if you'd rather, Haldir. Though it may be better for you to be here when he wakes up, so we don't have to wait for you to return before moving him elsewhere." Caladwen was watching him, and he wondered if she was trying to wear his patience thin. Or if it was merely his imagination.

Haldir sat next to the opening that led out to the talon's balcony, which was unusual in that it had a rail along the edge. He purposely kept as far away from the human as possible. He wanted nothing to do with it beyond what Galadriel had commanded. "I will wait."

* * *

Draco opened his eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight that streamed in through a window nearby. He was in an unfamiliar room, and he could see trees outside of a kind that he hadn't seen anywhere before. And his cloak was spread over a rack to dry like some Muggle's! He growled, struggling to sit up, his grey eyes narrowed into slits.

A callused hand slid under his shoulder, helping him into an upright position, though when he tried to stand, it kept him from getting to his feet. Draco looked up into a woman's face that appeared to be ageless. Or, at least, he couldn't put an age to it.

"Don't try to stand up quite yet, youngling. You won't do your head any good." The woman's voice was musical, and her tone light. "A nasty knock to the back of your head, and I'd wager you'd have a nasty headache as well, if you hadn't had a mug of willow-bark tea already."

She reached a hand up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind a pointed ear, and Draco stared. "What is it, youngling?" she asked with a frown on her face.

Draco lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes tightly, and crossing his arms over his chest. "This is not real This is a dream. I'm not seeing any of this."

There was a chuckle from the woman. "I'm no dream, youngling, I can assure you of that. And neither was that knot on the back of your head when Haldir brought you here."

Draco's eyes snapped open, and he nearly choked. "Who?" He stared at the woman, his jaw dropping. "No. Middle Earth is nothing more than a figment of some old doddering wizard. Couldn't even keep it well enough to himself, either."

There was a snort from somewhere near his feet. "The human has obviously lost any wits he may have had." The voice was cold and arrogant, a sneer audible to Draco.

He pushed himself back up, glaring at the man with pointed ears who sat near a doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Draco's jaw clenched, and he wished he had his wand in hand. He'd curse the smirk right off the stranger's face! Witless, indeed! Never.

The pointed-eared man…

_Elf_, Draco's mind interjected

The elf stood, looking down at Draco through cool grey eyes. "The sooner you get yourself dressed, the sooner you may eat, human."

"My name, you insolent prat, is Draco Malfoy." Draco lifted his chin, his arrogance drawn about him like a cloak. No figment of the imagination was going to order him around, or insult him, with impunity. He was a Malfoy, by Merlin!

"I don't care what your name is, human." The elf's lip curled. "Caladwen, the healer, has said you may not remain in her talon, so you had best get your clothing on. Unless you wish to leave in nothing more than your skin?" He raised a blond brow in question, a smirk hovering on the corners of his mouth.

Draco's eyes widened, then narrowed again, his face going pale with anger. "You wouldn't dare."

He missed seeing Caladwen's mouth twitch, and wasn't ready when the elf took two long strides over, and hauled him out of the bed by the scruff of the neck, catching the fine hairs there in the process. Draco yelped, and struggled, trying to get away, as he was dragged from the talon.

"Caladwen, if you would send Megilwen with the brat's clothing when she has a free moment, I'm sure it would appreciate them."

There was a snicker from behind them. "Of course, Haldir. I might not be able to spare her until evening, though."

Draco yelped, and struggled harder, twisting out of Haldir's grasp and diving back inside, grabbing his pajamas and cloak, wrapping the still damp wool around him, his face scarlet. He strode back out with his chin tilted up, and his most haughty expression on his face. "You may lead the way to the accommodations you have arranged for me."

_And then, someone is going to pay for this sick joke. Dearly._

* * *

Haldir rolled his eyes at the human's comment, wondering how badly Caladwen would hurt him if he dropped him off the balcony outside her talon. Probably more than it would be worth to see him screaming like an infant when he broke his leg.

"This way. Watch your step," he added with a sneer. He moved rapidly along the balconies and bridges that connected the talons of the city, and up the two flights of stairs that led to the level his talon was on. He could hear the human behind him grumbling about the city being like some place called Hogwarts.

"Hmm." The human looked around the talon, his gaze assessing. Haldir growled as the human stepped around the screen that divided the space. "This will do. Even if it i…"

Haldir pulled him away from his private space. "You will sleep out here, human. On the floor." Haldir indicated the floor nearest the entrance. "You may request a blanket, but you will not be taking mine."

"Excuse me?" Draco looked at him, his eyes wide with mock-surprise. "I thought I heard you say I was to sleep on the floor?"

"Precisely, human."

* * *

Author's Note: Points to review button. Review. Gives readers puppy-dog eyes.   
Thank you to Hogwarts Hag for beta-reading my work. Thank you to those who have reviewed so far - Gilraen Aclamense, The Lady of Light, and Lady Melisande Grey.   
And the Review Question, for those who wish to do this...   
Would Draco attempt to find a way home, or will he start looking for a way to get a place and power of his own in Middle Earth? 


	4. 3: Dinner At Lord Elrond

_Chapter 3 – Dinner at Lord Elrond's Table_

Andromeda gave herself a last look in the mirror, nodding at her appearance. She'd found a deep blue gown a few shades darker than her eyes among the ones she'd been given, and a silver-cloth sash to accent it. Her hair was pinned up in a neat bun, with a trio of narrow braids winding through it, and held by a pair of wrought silver pins. Perfectly respectable, and altogether more like what she grew up with than what she'd been living with for many years.

Someone knocked on her door, and Andromeda tucked her wand into an arm sheath. She nodded to Gandalf, greeting him with a polite, "Good evening, Mithrandir."

She'd spent most of the afternoon talking with the wizard, and the subject had often come back to their respective magics. Gandalf had been very curious about her wand, and the magic of her world. Andromeda had gotten the impression that he knew more about her world than he let her see, but she hadn't had the time to find out how much he knew, if really any at all.

"Good evening, Andromeda." Gandalf smiled back, and offered his arm. "Lord Elrond has requested II escort you to dinner."

Andromeda tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to lead her through the halls to a balcony that overlooked one of the waterfalls. Four others sat around the table, and she smiled at Elrond and Arwen in greeting.

"Lord Elrond. Arwen." She nodded to the elves as she took her seat, her gaze passing briefly over the hobbit and the human already at the table. She suspected she wouldn't be surprised by who they were when introduced, but she waited, not wanting to reveal too much of her own knowledge of Middle Earth.

"Andromeda." Elrond returned her greeting briefly. There was a frown on his face that Andromeda couldn't read, and she shifted slightly, wondering what had caused the expression. It faded a moment later, and he introduced Aragorn and Bilbo, who had both shot curious looks at her.

Aragorn continued to watch her, a slight frown of thought on his face, while Bilbo simply nodded, and returned to a conversation that had been interrupted by her arrival.

Andromeda listened to his commentary on a piece of writing he was translating, nodding absently when someone appeared at her elbow with wine. She spun the stem of the goblet idly between her fingers as Bilbo continued to speak.

Aragorn shifted in his seat to lean towards Andromeda. "One can only listen to Bilbo's stories so many times, for the elaborations grow with each passing year," he commented, his tone casual.

Andromeda turned, raising an eyebrow in question. "Isn't that true of any tale? After all, the best thing about a storyteller is they never tell the same tale twice."

Aragorn smiled slightly. "True." He paused, taking a sip from his goblet of wine. "What brings you to Imladris?" he asked, curiosity in his expression. "I know it cannot be Lord Elrond's hospitality. Although known as the Last Homely House, sometimes he can…" He caught Elrond's sharp glance, and fell silent with a knowing smile. Andromeda's brow furrowed a moment, and she made a note to ask Aragorn later what he meant to say.

"I am uncertain as to my purpose here in this place, if there is any at all, but in time, many things are revealed." Andromeda took a sip of her wine, her expression bland even as she gave a mental wince at the vagueness of her response, even though she knew she had to be vague. She didn't know what year it was in Middle Earth, but she was fairly certain the Fellowship has not yet set out on their quest to destroy the ring.

And I do not wish to disturb events any more than I will simply by being here, if there is no way to return home.

"In this place?" Aragorn questioned.

"Middle Earth," Andromeda replied quietly. "It is not where I was born, or raised." She caught the amused smile on Gandalf's face out of the corner of her eye, and again wondered how much the wizard knew, and wasn't letting on about.

Aragorn nodded. "Really? Than where would you be from?" He gazed at the wizard with a slightly challenging expression on his face.

"From a land far from Middle Earth, called Britain." Andromeda twirled her goblet again, uncertain how much to reveal of her world. _Better to tell them of my world, where they are unlikely to ever go, than to have them discover I know more of their future than they as yet know._

"Britain? Sounds intriguing." Aragorn lit his pipe, and leaned back. "What is it like?"

Andromeda watched him intently for a moment before she replied, wondering why she felt like he knew something about her world already. "Depends on where you go. It is a land of many places, and many people." She continued to watch him, waiting to see where he would take this line of questioning. And if he would let slip something that he shouldn't know. "Where would you have me begin?"

"The town you grew up in would be a logical choice." Aragorn waved his hand, indicating the valley around them. "One would know that better than any other place. I'm sure there are places Arwen and I know of that others haven't found yet."

Arwen smiled, her eyes sparkling. "As I have places I know that I have not shown you, melanin."

Andromeda nodded, smiling in response to the elven woman's mirth. "True enough." She paused, taking a sip of wine before beginning to weave a tale of the streets of London, Diagon Alley, her aunt and uncle's sometimes frightening home, and the other places of her childhood. _And let's not tell you about Tolkien. It would result in questions I'd rather not answer._

* * *

Aragorn's hand found Arwen's as they listened to the stories Andromeda spun of this place called Britain, until she came to what sounded like the end of the tale.

"What happened next?" he encouraged.

Andromeda licked her lips. "I met Ted, and my aunt blasted my name off the family tree." She appeared reluctant to talk more about her family, twirling the goblet once more.

"Who is Ted?"

Beside Andromeda, Elrond's conversation with Bilbo had drawn to a close, and his eyes focused on her as well. Aragorn suspected he had been listening to the entire conversation before this, knowing the elven lord could easily have listened to both Bilbo and Andromeda at the same time.

"He's a Muggle-born wizard, and my husband." Andromeda took a sip from her goblet, her expression troubled. "Is there something else about Britain you're curious about?"

"What is a Muggle?" Arwen asked from beside Aragorn.

"A Muggle is a human who can't work magic where I come from."

"And why did your aunt disown you?" Elrond asked quietly.

Andromeda looked over at him, her blue eyes holding a mix of disgust and pity. "Because she had all the pure-blood prejudices against those who cannot trace magic back in their family to the beginning."

"What did you say your family name was?" Aragorn suddenly asked. Something from her stories was niggling at the back of his mind, and he tried to pin it down. What was it?

Andromeda gave him a puzzled look. "Black. Why?"

"Just… curious. Do you have any children?"

"Just one. A daughter." Andromeda paused, licking her lips, her body language suggesting she was nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. "Nymphadora. And she hates her name. Insists people call her by her surname, Tonks."

Aragorn choked at the name, the thought coming to his mind in full. Legolas's strange companion, the man called Sirius. He had mentioned a young woman called Tonks in his stories. "Tonks?"

Andromeda nodded, giving him a curious look. "Is it that strange?"

"No… no." Aragorn shook his head, not wanting to tell her quite yet about Sirius. Not until he had spoken to the strange man, perhaps convinced him to come to Imladris. "I thought the name sounded familiar for a moment, that's all."

Andromeda regarded him with a hint of confusion in her expression for a long moment. "Of course." She didn't look convinced, but she said nothing more.

* * *

Dinner was quiet for a while after that, while they ate, and Andromeda turned the conversation over in her mind. Aragorn was keeping something back, and it troubled her. What, or who, was in Mirkwood that would know who her daughter was? Or was it simply the name?

As a servant took away his empty plate, Elrond spoke quietly, his question startling Andromeda. "I am curious, Andromeda, how you learned Sindarin."

"I…" Andromeda shook her head, certain now what had caused Elrond's troubled frown at the beginning of dinner. "I was unaware I was speaking it, Lord Elrond. I hear myself speaking English, and I hear your responses in the same. Which I suspect holds no great resemblance to any language of Middle Earth."

Her brow furrowed, and she tapped one finger against the table as she thought. _I should have noticed that is was odd I am capable of understanding them, and they, me. How did I fail to do so?_

"So you do not actually know Sindarin?" Elrond was watching her intently, and Andromeda shifted uncomfortably.

"No." She knew that wasn't entirely true, as she had memorized the bits of verse from Tolkien's books, but she wasn't sure that constituted knowledge, or mere parroting. Not to mention, those books told of a future for this world. At least, she thought they did, and it wouldn't be a good idea to speak of them if they did.

"If I may ask, what year is it?"

Elrond raised an eyebrow, but answered

Andromeda mentally winced. _Seven years, and the Fellowship will gather here, and depart to take that ring to its destruction._ She didn't even name the ring in her thoughts, much as she never named Voldemort, lest she draw unwanted attention in her direction.

"Is there something important about the date, Andromeda?" Elrond was still watching her, and she tried to shove the unease she was feeling down into some dark corner of her mind.

"Nothing of which I care to speak, Lord Elrond." She met his gaze, her expression carefully blank.

He nodded after a long moment. "As you wish."

Andromeda nodded in return, and there was silence for a long moment before she spoke again. "If I may take my leave, Lord Elrond, I am tired, and wish to retire to my room for the night." In truth, she merely wanted to make a strategic retreat before she said anything else that she shouldn't.

* * *

Elrond granted Andromeda leave to go, the table sitting silent until she was out of hearing.

Gandalf smoked his pipe for a long moment before he spoke. "She is from the same world as our young friend in Mirkwood," he said quietly. "I suspected such after speaking with her earlier, and her tales of this place called Britain make it all the more likely."

"Also, the name Tonks is one Sirius has mentioned before." Aragorn leaned back in his seat, one arm crossed over his chest, the other holding his pipe. "Though not often, and when he does, it appears to be with some regret."

"Perhaps because he has no reason to think he would ever see those who bore that family name again." Gandalf frowned. "Nor would I hold out any more than a vague hope he will see any others from his world again."

"Unless another incident brings more from their world here." Elrond's frown was a match for Gandalf's. "Or we can find a way to send them home."

"We have spent the last ten years trying to find a way to send Sirius back to his world, and we are no closer now than we were then." Aragorn shook his head. "I do not think there is a way, short of the Valar taking interest in these two strangers. And there are other concerns."

"Among them, business that will take you or I back to Mirkwood." Gandalf looked over at Aragorn, raising one grey eyebrow. "Do you intend to tell our young friend about Andromeda?"

"He would likely appreciate the news that he isn't the only one of his world trapped here," Aragorn replied easily. "And Thranduil will no doubt be glad to have Sirius gone from his halls."

Gandalf snorted, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "No doubt. Even if he's only gone a short while."

Elrond silently agreed it was likely the Mirkwood king would be glad to see Sirius Black gone from his woods. Many tales he'd heard of the stranger who'd appeared there ten years ago, and the mantra Thranduil now repeated when Sirius had annoyed the elven king again. _'There is a way to send him back. It will be found. He will be gone, far away from me.'_

"Before you leave, you ought to speak to Andromeda, and let her know about Sirius's being here, in Middle Earth," Bilbo interjected suddenly, giving Aragorn a sharp look. "You ought to have told her earlier. If she does indeed know him, she will be glad to know she isn't alone here, same as he will be."

Aragorn nodded to Bilbo. "True enough, my friend."

The conversation fell silent again, the others taking their leave one by one, leaving Elrond alone with his thoughts.

What am I going to do with these strangers? And what is Andromeda reluctant to speak of, that made her uneasy about the year?

* * *

Author's Note: 

Lady Melisande Grey - We shall see. 

Darklight - More there is now, and more there will come. Both of Andromeda in Imladris and Draco in Lothlorien. 


	5. 4: Trading Insults and Fencing

_Chapter 4 – Trading Insults and Fencing_

Draco fumed, wishing it was possible to kill someone just by glaring at them. He was without his wand, alone, and Merlin knew where… _Lothlórien._ His scowl deepened at that thought. _Hmph. The world would be so much better off if that bastard had kept his ideas to himself._

He toed the pile of blankets a young female elf had brought a few moments ago, while he'd still been in a state of shock. He still wasn't sure if he could believe the elf meant what he said. _How can they expect a _Malfoy_ to sleep on the _floor! _It's preposterous! I am no servant, or peasant to be treated like this…_

"Are you going to stand there like a petulant child all day?" The elf had been moving around the talan while Draco was contemplating the horrors of the day, and now stood next to the entrance with a sword belted at his waist.

Draco glared at Haldir for a long moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "I am _not_ a child."

There was a snort from the elf. "You're acting like one. Sulking because you can't have your way?"

An explosive growl emerged from Draco, and he narrowed his eyes. "I am not sulking. And even if I don't have a bed _yet_ doesn't mean I won't get one." He tried to remember who was in charge of Lothlórien in the books his mother had insisted he read before he could escape to Hogwarts. _Gladrag? Gladrel? Some stupid elf name like that._

_Galadriel!_ An annoyed voice exclaimed in his head, as if it had been listening to him the entire time. _And you will have no audience with me today._

Draco realized his jaw had dropped when Haldir snickered, and commented that he wasn't going to feed him like a nestling bird. He snapped his mouth shut, clenching his jaw, and glaring ferociously at the elf.

* * *

Haldir raised an eyebrow at Draco's glare, smirking. "Well? Are you done sulking, or should I find you a shiny toy to keep you entertained while I am busy?"

"Busy?" Draco matched Haldir's expression, giving Haldir the distinct impression he was being mocked. "Doing what? Climbing trees and braiding your hair?"

Haldir's jaw clenched before he could force himself to relax and _not_ reach out and strangle the human. "As amusing I'm sure you'd find doing such things, I have more important tasks than indulging your petty whims."

"Really? Do tell." Draco waved one hand in an expansive gesture, an expression of cool amusement on his face.

Haldir returned the expression with one of disdain. "I have no need to explain myself to a child." He began down the steps, stopping when he noticed Draco wasn't following. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Draco was watching him through narrowed eyes, and Haldir could see him drumming his fingers against his arm.

Haldir pushed the desire to curse Galadriel for saddling him with the strange human, he spoke slowly, as if he would with a small child. "You cannot remain here while I am out training with the other wardens. You will accompany me there, and you will stay out of the way until the session is over."

"Training?" Draco's eyes darted to the sword at Haldir's waist. "With swords?"

Haldir rolled his eyes. "Among other weapons, yes."

Draco smiled, the expression disconcerting on his face. Haldir didn't think Draco's face was meant to smile, and bit back a comment saying as much.

"Than I will come with you." Draco paused. "Though I shall require clothing more appropriate to spar in."

Haldir choked on a laugh. "You? Spar with the wardens of Lothlórien?" He shook his head. "No. You will stay out of the way until the session is over, and then you will return here."

Draco scowled, his eyes narrowing. "You cannot dictate what I am capable of, _elf_. Or what I am going to do. I _will_ spar, and I will _require_ clothing more suitable for the activity."

Haldir turned back to face Draco. "You will not be sparring with those under my command." He took in the clothing Draco wore. "I will not argue you need clothing better suited to remaining here, but that will not cause me to grant you permission to spar."

Draco's jaw clenched. "Then I demand that you provide me with suitable clothing now."

Haldir glared at Draco a moment before taking two long strides behind the screen that kept his bed hidden from the rest of the world. He pulled out a worn tunic and leggings that were long past their prime, and shoved them into the human's hands.

"There. Wear those, human."

Draco inspected the clothing, and wrinkled his nose briefly at the obvious wear. "This will be tolerable for today only. I shall expect better tomorrow." He gave Haldir a haughty look as he stepped behind the screen, stepping back out a moment later dressed in what he had been given. "Now, you may lead the way, elf." He gave Haldir a mocking smile, and waved one hand in an expansive gesture to emphasize his words.

Haldir silently snarled, cursing whatever had brought Draco to Middle Earth, and most especially, what had brought him to Lothlórien. He took the most convoluted path he could think of that wouldn't delay him greatly, trying to ensure that Draco was well and truly lost before they arrived at the clearing where the marchwardens sparred.

There, he spotted his brothers, who both had grins on their faces. Haldir wondered how long it had taken Caladwen to tell Rúmil about the guest, and his newly assigned task of watching the little human brat.

"Heyla, brother!" Rúmil came over, looking at Draco curiously. "So this is the little drowned human you pulled out of the river, and Lady Galadriel has given you the duty to watch." He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "He looks quite charming in your cast offs. Like a little elfling."

"What is he saying?" demanded Draco, sending a sharp, wary look at Rúmil. "And what language is he speaking?"

Haldir smirked. "He is speaking in Sindarin, human. And he said merely that you look like a little elfling in my castoffs."

Draco's face went pale, with spots of red high in his cheeks, his eyes glittering. "Did he?" he asked sotto voce. He was glaring at Rúmil, and the other elf gave Haldir an annoyed look.

"Although it was what I said, it was not in the ill humour with which you told him, Haldir." Rúmil crossed his arms over his chest. "I would that you would tell him it in the manner I said it, but you have no mind to do so, I think. For though we all have little love for those from outside our forest, you have less still than any other." He sighed, and looked at Draco briefly. "So what name does our strangely-arrived guest have that we might call him?"

"He says his name is Draco Malfoy, and he appears to think himself of some importance." Haldir snorted. "And what wits he may have once had I think have been lost in the river, for he doubted when he awoke even the reality of this place."

_Though he knew well enough of it,_ Haldir added to himself. _And he knew who I was, which does not bode well for who he really may be, or where he might come from._

Rúmil was watching Draco intently as the young man glared back. "So what skill has he to practice here, brother of mine, that you brought him with you? I see nothing he has with him that he might do, except become bored, and cause mischief."

Haldir gave Draco a sneering look. "He says he wishes to spar, though I do not know how he might spar against an elf. I doubt he has the skill."

"Maybe." Orophin was standing off to the side. "We could spar with him, brother. Certainly it would ill for you to take on that task." He smirked at the glare Haldir sent his was. "Truly, Haldir. You appeared to be in a most foul mood when you arrived, and I would think to attribute it to the human, or to the task Lady Galadriel set you in watching him."

* * *

"What is being said?" Draco crossed his arms, glaring at Haldir.

Haldir glared right back. "They are speaking of you, human, and I will not stand here and tell you all of what they say."

"Why don't they speak English, so that I might understand them? It is rude to speak about someone in a language the person cannot understand."

"English?" Haldir drew the word out, looking puzzled now, in addition to annoyed. "Is that what they call the Common Tongue in the land from which you come?"

Draco gave him an odd look, wondering if the elf had hit his head. "Since that is what I am speaking, obviously that is the case." He curled his lip in a sneer of disgust. "Perhaps _you_ have lost your wits now, elf."

"I have lost nothing!" Haldir snapped back, once more glaring. He turned to point at a tree. "Sit there, and keep quiet. I will not have you causing mischief."

"No." Draco shook his head. "I will not. I came here to spar, and I will not allow you to prevent me from doing so."

The elf who had spoken to Haldir first laughed, his eyes sparkling with merriment, and he said something to Haldir that caused the elf to scowl, and snap something back in the same language.

Haldir stalked away after the elf said something more, leaving Draco with no way to understand what the elf said.

"Rúmil." The elf touched his chest, then pointed to another elf, who bore a resemblance to both himself and to Haldir. "Orophin."

Orophin was studying Draco minutely, ignoring Rúmil's introduction of him to the young wizard. A corner of the elf's mouth twitched upwards in a smile, and he pulled the blade that hung at his waist, offering it to Draco hilt first.

Draco regarded it for a moment, before accepting it. He took a step back, to ensure they were out of his way, and tested the balance and weight of the weapon. A smirk came to his face at the quality of the blade.

Rúmil tapped the end of the blade with his own, a grin of amusement on his face. He said something Draco didn't understand, and the young wizard could see Haldir scowling across the clearing.

With a grin, Draco nodded, settling into a ready stance, slowly circling Rúmil as the elf turned on one foot. He struck out, his form perfect, and yelped as the flat of the elf's blade smacked his hand. "What the bloody hell…?"

Rúmil raised an eyebrow, and called over to Haldir. There was a reply in the same liquid language, before Haldir rolled his eyes, and said, so that Draco could understand, "My brother says you fight like a child who has just picked up a blade. All show and no real skill."

Draco's jaw dropped, and he glared at both of them for a long moment, before he tried to launch another offensive.

* * *

Haldir smirked as he looked down at Draco, who was leaning against a tree at the edge of the clearing, the clothing he wore soaked through with sweat. "You look little better than when you were pulled from the river, human. I wonder that you have survived this long, if you are always half-drowning yourself in water or in your own foolish arrogance."

Draco opened one pale grey eye to meet Haldir's gaze. "You are lucky my wand was lost in that river of yours, elf. Or you would look no better than I." His lip curled upwards in a sneer. "And I am not so weak as you think I am."

Haldir chuckled. "Really? You appear to have more bruises than I did when I first tested my mettle against the wardens who guard this city."

Draco didn't deign to reply, using the tree he was leaning against to haul himself to his feet, and to steady himself as he swayed. "I want something to eat, elf. So where in this bloody place do I go to find food?"

Rúmil came over, having packed his weapons and gear to return them to his talan. "You ought to take him to see Caladwen, Haldir. His balance appeared to be off in the later rounds, and I think that it is not because he is human. Tired, perhaps, but I recall that you pulled him from the river, and that Caladwen said to watch him for signs that not all has healed from the blow he took to the head whilst in the river."

Haldir grimaced. "So she did."

"What did he say now?" Draco snapped, one hand rubbing at his temple.

"That you ought to see the healer before anything else."

"I don't need some healer for a few bruises!"

Haldir's eyes narrowed, and he grabbed Draco by the arm, hauling the young man in the direction of Caladwen's talan. "I didn't say it was for a few bruises, human, and nor would I suggest it. Unless you are weaker than you pretend to be?"

Draco yanked his arm out of Haldir's grasp, and stumbled, reaching out to steady himself against a tree. "No!"

Rúmil reached out a steadying hand, pulling back once Draco was steady on his feet. "No one told him he had struck his head hard enough to give him a concussion, did they, Haldir?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No," Haldir replied, biting off the word as he pushed his annoyance down. "You are going to the healer, Draco, now."

"Why should I?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face. "She said nothing about me going back."

"She said to bring you back if there were signs of a concussion." Haldir raised an eyebrow, daring Draco to argue with him.

Draco's eyes widened. "Concussion? And no one thought to tell _me_ I had a concussion!"

Haldir rolled his eyes. "One would think you would have the intelligence to notice that something was wrong. I must have been mistaken."

He merely received a glare from Draco, before the boy turned, and stalked in the direction Haldir had been directing him. Rúmil sighed, shaking his head at his brother, and followed, catching Draco when the boy stumbled, and steadying him the rest of the way.

_Why couldn't you have had Rúmil watch him? Or someone else who might survive dealing with the human with their sanity intact?_

Haldir scowled at his thoughts, and followed Rúmil and Draco to Caladwen's talan, to make sure the human didn't do anymore damage to himself.


	6. 5: Secrets Kept and Secrets Shared

_Chapter 5 – Secrets Kept and Secrets Shared_

"Miss Andromeda!"

Andromeda paused in her circuit of the garden, turning to wait for Bilbo to catch up with her. "Good morning, Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo chuckled. "Oh, do call me Bilbo, Miss Andromeda. No need to be too formal." He smiled at her. "After all, we are all to be friends here, are we not?"

Andromeda returned his smile, nodding her head. "Quite true. But if I am to call you by name, than you must call me Andromeda. Not Miss Andromeda." She started to walk along the path again, enjoying the morning. "I haven't been a simple miss in years. More than twenty, now."

"Twenty?" Bilbo frowned, a puzzled expression on his face. "That can't be right."

Andromeda looked down at him, her brow furrowing. "Why's that, Bilbo?"

"It just doesn't make sense, unless time passes differently for where you came from than it does here." Bilbo looked up the path, and chuckled again. "Ah, Dúnadan! You are off to see to your journeys once more, I see."

"Soon, Master Bilbo." Aragorn smiled in greeting to the hobbit. "But first, I have a matter to discuss with the lady, as you so kindly reminded me last night."

"Yes, yes, of course." Bilbo nodded. "I shall talk to you again later, perhaps, Andromeda? I should like to hear more of your tales of Britain, if I might impose."

"It would be no imposition, Bilbo." Andromeda waved as he wandered off down the path before turning to Aragorn with a puzzled expression. "What is it you wish to discuss with me, Master Aragorn?"

Aragorn began to walk, Andromeda falling into step beside him. "Nearly ten years ago now, a stranger appeared in Mirkwood. No one knew where he had come from, and he spoke a language unlike any on Middle Earth." Aragorn spoke slowly, choosing his words with care, and Andromeda frowned in puzzlement.

"Who…?"

Aragorn held up a hand, a slight smile crossing his face. "Patience, Lady Andromeda. This stranger carried a simple stick which gave him power similar to those wielded by the Wise, though it is not the same." He looked over at her with amusement in his eyes. "Indeed, it is most like the power Gandalf spoke of you wielding when he brought to you your wand that had been dropped at the gates."

Andromeda tilted her head. "A wizard of my world? But there are none that I recall missing, not ten years gone now. Further back, and more recent, yes, but not a decade ago."

"Perhaps the time does not pass so quickly here, or it passes more quickly, which, it matters not." Aragorn paused near the courtyard, turning to look at Andromeda. "He gave his name as Sirius Black, and he has been in Mirkwood these ten years, for as much as we looked for a way to send him home, we could find none."

Andromeda blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. "But Sirius is dead. And Remus would not lie to me about something like that. And it has only been a month since he fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries." She shook her head. "I don't know how it is possible. Yes, it could be that time passes differently, but all that we know of the Veil tells us that those who pass through it are dead. That they cannot return."

Aragorn shook his head. "That would be a question for someone other than myself, Lady Andromeda. I merely know that Sirius lives now in Mirkwood, and that he has spoken of his world, your world, with regret that there is no return for him."

"And if there is no return for my cousin, it is likely there is no return for me, or for my nephew, if he indeed was brought here as I was." Andromeda chewed on her lower lip, her brow furrowed in thought. "You will tell my cousin I am here, will you not? I should very much like to see him again."

Aragorn nodded. "I intended to do so, Lady Andromeda, as I have business that will take me by Mirkwood once more."

"Thank you." Andromeda smiled at Aragorn. "Safe journey, Master Aragorn." She watched as he left, before turning to walk back down the garden path, her brow furrowed in thought. She didn't even pay attention to where she was going until someone touched her forearm, startling her out of her thoughts.

Arwen shook her head when Andromeda opened her mouth to apologize for not noticing the elven woman. "Do not apologize, please. You were deep in your thoughts, and I doubted you would have noticed much anyone coming up the path, barring a band of orcs."

Andromeda chuckled weakly, trying to calm her racing heart. "I ought to pay more attention to my surroundings, even when I think I am safe. Life is not always so lenient on those who do not pay attention."

"True." Arwen gestured to the garden path. "Might I walk with you? You looked as if you needed to talk with someone, and there are few people here I care to speak with. Too many forget that I am a person, not just the Evenstar."

"That must be disconcerting." Andromeda began to walk again. "You are welcome to walk with me if you wish."

Arwen matched Andromeda's pace, watching the human woman carefully. "Would you like to talk about what is on your mind, Andromeda?"

Andromeda shrugged her shoulders slightly. "What is there to talk of that hasn't been discussed to death?" She paused, sighing. "Master Aragorn told me my cousin was here, in Middle Earth, when I had thought him dead. And only a bit more than a month dead, when he has been here ten years. I do not understand it, and if there has been no way home for him, I don't know if I shall ever go home."

Arwen nodded. "And you have missed him, have you not?"

"He was the only member of my family that still cared about me." Andromeda rubbed her arms, shaking her head. "I had felt as though he betrayed me during those years while he was in Azkaban. Thought he was no better than the rest of my family, with their arrogance and their hatred. A mistake that it took his death for others to see for what it was. Even I didn't fully trust him, or fully believe his innocence until Remus told Ted and I that Sirius was dead."

"What is Azkaban?"

Andromeda shook her head. "It is a place that no one wants to be sent to, and a place I would prefer not to discuss. If Sirius wishes to tell people of that evil place, and his time there, I will not say he may not. But I shall not speak of it."

Arwen nodded. "If it is such an evil place as you say, someone ought to know, but I would prefer not to. There are enough evil places in this world to worry about, without adding worries about other worlds."

"Quite enough." Andromeda smiled, though the expression didn't reach her eyes. _And I recall too much of them. Isengard, Moria, Dol Guldur, and Mordor, in this Age. Utumno, Angband, Avathar and Ered Gorgoroth in Ages past. Strongholds of those that are worse than any Dark Lord that the wizarding world has seen. One of whom has yet to be defeated._

"Are you all right, Andromeda?" Arwen was giving her a concerned look. "You went suddenly pale."

"I will be fine. I think I just need to rest a while." Andromeda turned towards the main structure once more.

"If you are ill, you should see a healer."

"No." Andromeda shook her head. "It is not that. There are simply things that I cannot speak of, and they make me ill at ease."

Arwen nodded. "Than I will not press you to tell me. I should only hope that you speak with someone about them, and perhaps then you will not feel so ill at ease because of those matters that weigh on your mind."

Andromeda smiled again, a more genuine gesture this time. "Thank you. Perhaps I might have the chance. But not yet." She turned down one corridor, while Arwen went in another direction, leaving her to her thoughts. _I cannot speak to anyone of what I know, or I risk changing what may be. Perhaps for the better, but it could as easily be for the worse, and I would not wish that on this place._

* * *

Elrond looked up at the knock on the door to his study, smiling when he saw his daughter. "Arwen."

"Ada." She returned the smile, slipping into the room, and going to perch on the window frame, like she had when she was very young. There was a long moment of silence before Arwen spoke, and then her voice was very quiet. "There is something she is hiding, ada. Something that frightens her, very much." She turned her head to look over at him. "And whatever it is, it is here, in Middle Earth."

"It may be that she fears the unknown, and that this world is very much an unknown to her." Elrond doubted it, and the annoyed look he received from Arwen told him she knew it as well as he did. He raised an eyebrow in return. "And what would you think of it, Arwen?"

"That what she fears is the same Enemy we all fear, and that she has never lived without this fear, and so hides it, and never speaks of it." Arwen frowned, her expression troubled. "That perhaps the Enemy we fear has spread its influence beyond Arda, and into worlds beyond the reach of the Valar."

Elrond frowned, weighing Arwen's words against his own meager observations of Andromeda. "Perhaps." _But I do not think the Enemy would be waiting, as it appears he is, for something to happen. Or something to be found. He would have sent his armies out already, to seek what he desires, and to conquer and kill._

"But you think it unlikely." Arwen sighed, the sound one of frustration. "Even if the Enemy has not spread his influence, ada, Andromeda knows who he is. And she knows something of our world, enough to fear the dark and fell places where evil makes its home."

That impression Elrond too had picked up from watching Andromeda. And perhaps Thranduil's problems with Sirius stemmed from some sense that the wizard too knew of more than he let others discover. But Elrond did not think Andromeda had the same wary and standoffish nature that many of the tales of Sirius suggested that wizard had.

"She will tell us what troubles her in her own time," he said, quietly. "When she is no longer so wary of where she is, and when she feels that it is no longer quite so needful to keep what she knows secret."

Arwen remained silent for a long moment before she stood, and padded out of the room. Elrond watched her go with a slight smile on his face. _And you will think on what I said, and you will try to find a way to put our guest at ease. To convince her the sooner to reveal her secrets, even if it does nothing but cause frustration._

* * *

Andromeda wandered the halls long after the sun had set, avoiding the Hall of Fire, even though she knew she could easily find quiet there. _If quiet were all I cared to find. But quiet is not going to quiet my thoughts. Only give them more strength and fearful form in the night._

She spotted the balcony on which she had eaten dinner with Elrond and the others the night before, and drifted towards it, looking out at the falls, their roar soothing, though muted by distance.

_All this beauty, and I thought it merely the entrancing creation of one man's imagination. Beauty, and beyond the safety of these walls, a danger that rises all too soon._ Unbidden, her gaze turned towards the east, and Andromeda shivered, drawing the cloak she'd brought with her close about her shoulders. Except that the chill she felt couldn't be warmed by clothing.

"There is always a warm fire and quiet in the Hall of Fire, if you wished it."

Andromeda spun, her wand dropping into her hand reflexively. She drew in a deep breath to try and calm her pounding heart when she saw who was standing there. "Lord Elrond."

Elrond raised an eyebrow at her wand. "Do you always expect an enemy, even when you are someplace safe?"

Andromeda smiled wryly, tucking her wand back into her sleeve. She turned back to look towards the falls, leaning her arms on the rail before she replied. "There is no such place in the world I came from. Unless one has disconnected the Floo, has anti-Apparition wards, and has warded their house to the rafters. It is rather more trouble than most are willing to go through to have some illusion of safety that can be breached merely by one's attacker being stronger in magic than oneself."

Elrond came to stand next to her, his gaze following her out towards the falls, but he remained silent, the silence encouraging her to continue.

"Ted and I were going to go into hiding, use the Fidelius Charm. It's the only way to be completely safe, and then, only if you are sure your Secret Keeper is trustworthy." Her lips twisted in a grimace. "But that is now rather a moot point. None of those who would wish me dead in my world can find me now. And no doubt Ted thinks I am dead."

She let out a frustrated sigh, glaring at the eastern horizon as if it was the source of all her troubles. "For all that I know, I may well never see home again. For one reason or another." Andromeda bit her lip before she could say anything more. _He would already know the Enemy is rising again. And I have no clue what telling them about Tolkien's work will do to effect the future._

"Tell me of these enemies of yours who would desire your death." Elrond settled himself on a bench that was to one side of the balcony, watching Andromeda.

Andromeda turned, leaning back against the rail as she met his gaze. "Not just my death, and more the death of my husband and daughter than mine. Along with the deaths of many who were not born of those who have traced the magic of their family back a millennia and more. More of a kind that have existed for centuries. They call themselves Death Eaters, and they hate all that do not follow their philosophy, and their leader. Voldemort."

She shuddered at the name, though she knew there was nothing to fear in it any longer. _He is far away, in time and distance. There is nothing he might do to harm me, nor can his followers find me._

"And you have fought this enemy for all your life?"

Andromeda gave him a sharp look. "Not for all of it. He had not risen until I was nearly finished my years at Hogwarts. But once I had left, I fought him, as best I could. By living, and loving, and raising my daughter. He fell almost fifteen years ago, because of an infant, a boy named Harry Potter. And he was brought back little more than a year past, using that same boy. And now, my daughter fights him, as best she can. Better than I, perhaps."

"An enemy perhaps much like the one we face here?" Elrond asked softly, watching her with an almost knowing look in his eyes.

Andromeda sighed, looking back towards the falls once more. "Not nearly as fearful. Voldemort is but a pale shadow compared to Sauron."

"And how would you know of Sauron, Lady Andromeda?"

"A man named Tolkien." Andromeda wrapped her arms around herself, the fear she had been looking to rid herself of welling up inside, and chilling her to the core. "He wrote stories of this world. Stories that tell of the past, and of what the future might hold. A future I dare tell no one of." She met his gaze again. "You have the gift of foresight. What does it tell you of the future?"

"I cannot see far, and what I see is shrouded in shadow, and doubt. What may pass, I do not know." Elrond stood once more, placing a hand on the railing. "But you know one path it may take."

Andromeda nodded. "But if I tell of that path, who is to say what may happen? It may change all that I know for the better, or it may change all that I know for the worse. And I cannot know which, nor would I wish the worse for this world, when already it shall be hemmed about in shadow ere hope might shed light into the hearts of all once more."

She paused, giving him an amused look. "And I did not intend even to say that much, but this place has a quality about it unlike any I have encountered before. It compels one to shed ones fears, no matter how great they may be. Or how difficult to be rid of."


End file.
